


Shirubāurufu no Densetsu (Legend of Silver Wolf)/Urufu to doragon (Wolf and Dragon)

by Revelery



Category: Shirubāurufu no Densetsu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 01:57:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15985157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Revelery/pseuds/Revelery
Summary: Gin Okami, whose referred name is the ''Cold Killer''. Living in the mountainous regions overlooking Japan, she is known to be a skilled ninja and warrior, only used as a puppet for brutal assassination of various village chiefs and leaders in the mundane world below her isolated territory. Because of her harsh teachings, she is devoid of emotion and feelings towards other peers and elders. One day, she battles against a powerful invader, whose dangerous strength surpasses her own. The rival enemy unexpectedly treats her deep-cut wounds, only to reveal the pre-destined fate that lingers in the crevices of the darkness.Any editors willing to help translate Japanese phrases are welcomed! Currently, I'm using Google Translate as my main interface of translating English to Japanese, but I have heard it isn't as reliable or accurate as it sounds. This will be my first issued story based on my own ideas and inspirations from the other animes/mangas I have watched and read.WARNING: Any re-distribution of this work will result in penalty. All views and interactions will be kept in check through the user's database. If there is any suspicious activity, the user will report it to Archive of our Own.





	1. The Past

**Author's Note:**

> COPYRIGHT © 2018 Revelery, Author and Illustrator, Archive of Our Own Member
> 
> Any reproduction of this work will result in consequences and penalty. This work may be shared and read by viewers, but it must not be plagiarized, copied, edited, or distributed in any way. The user is given exclusive rights to which he or she can edit and view their work freely. However, the viewer can seek permission by the user themselves for any usage. Copies of the work itself and unknown credentials will be terminated.
> 
> Thank you.

_''All I remembered...was ruthless killing and the stench of death._ Blood staining the dirt ground I stood on. My ragged clothes torn and crimson stains dripping on the thin fabric. My pale complexion was sullied by deep scars, both recent yet old. Some consisted of partially-healed scars, others already dripping blood from the numerous cuts. I chopped off many heads and amputated people's arms and legs from their bodies, then disposing the evidence by cremating it without honor. It didn't matter whose screams and cries were heard, it was both my duty and my destiny. Over time, the pain from weaponry numbed off, adrenaline diminishing little by little for every battle I fought.''

 

 

I awoken to the sound of young magpies singing outside the open window, dusty curtains flowing with the summer breeze. My silver hair was in a mess, its tresses tangled and curled. Grabbing a pin brush, I slowly combed through the gray tangles in monotone fashion. With weeks being without rain, the water tap had run dried. Freeing me from my brush, I looked onto the mirror of my bamboo dresser, only to see a ghostly face upon the smooth surface. Dark circles marked hours of sleep deprivation alongside wrinkles under my eyes, something I didn't care much about. My health and condition were of no importance, only money gained from missions to reach a forgotten goal. 

* * *

 

''Mama, I'll help you!'' a naive voice said. A withering mother was crouching in the corner where the shoji walls met, breathing heavily out of agony. Clutching one hand to her still-beating chest, she used her free hand to pat her daughter's head. A wry smile formed across her face, salty tears rolling down her wrinkly skin. The young girl crawled onto her mother's lap, hoping to feel the nostalgic warmness. Unfortunately, the summer retreats, and winter enters. When day had woken up, it was met with a terrible curse from night. The daughter had woken up to the dead corpse of her mother, her hands drooping from cradling her daughter in her lap. 

The cabinets were filled with half-empty drugs, their small caps tightly shut around each bottle. In the clutter, numerous pills of different shapes and sizes were scattered around the floor of the each drawer, like a collection of lost marbles. Papers marked with the red ''WARNING'' were stamped on rental bills and monthly payments. Only a pile of yen coins were enclosed in a faded, yellow envelope. The widowed family had little to nothing in their pitiful lives. 

* * *

I removed every article of clothing of sleepwear: a traditional button-up shirt and short pants with a simple color of pale yellow. Tossing them away in the laundry basket, I slipped on my textile button-up shirt as well as my leggings tied together by red knots. The outer armor consisted of a black shell made of polished bamboo, as well at the boots. I tied a breathable cloth on my mouth under my ears, the hilt of my Odachi sword in its helm, and a clay money pot on the other side. My silver hair was tied into a loose ponytail with a simple hairband. As I opened the unhinged door of my cabin, the mountain breeze whistled happily, as if inviting me to go outside. I had wished for these words to be true. It was nothing more than a mere breeze who flew out of my grasp for a split second. Below the cliff, there were a series of carved stairs leading to the valley where an abandoned village was built. Much of the buildings were in ruin, rubble of splintered wood and boulders laden between each alley. The forgotten town held an ominous atmosphere, carrying the fog as the Hinoki cypresses were clustering closer. 

This used to be my old village, where me and my mother lived during my adolescent years. When she passed away, I was thrown onto the streets when the tribal officials took our house. I stood outside the same house, examining the white pieces of duct tape stuck on the sides of the front door as well as the oval-shaped windows. Through repeated seasons, the stickiness still kept on, preventing me from opening either opening into my childhood home. I was only 8 years old at that time. A small child roaming the streets where there used to be caravans stock full of traveling merchandise, side markets selling cooked food, and its villagers walking along the trodden-dirt path leading through the entire village. My body soon bear bones and ribs sticking out, and I was inching towards death's door when I lost all the necessities my body needed. Everyone discriminated against orphans, often kicking them for satisfaction or selling them off for a profit. When twilight descended, I crawled into the forest, hoping to seek refuge from the horrendous human civilization. My body possessed red rashes, purplish-bluish bruises, and bloody cuts from begging and its results. There, someone saw me, lying on the base of an old, withering tree at the edge of the grove. His head was bald, his garments was that of an orange robe, and he didn't seem as condescending as the other people I interacted with. He slowly took me into his arms, and he walked to a nearby monastery, where I was to be treated with medications and well-fed. An assortment of animals awaited me, some of which were stray dogs and cats. The only ones I met were guard dogs, aggressive beasts who would bite you to shreds if you were to land a foot in their territory. The monk smiled warmly as I played with the furry animals, who bundled up next to me as we all fell asleep. The morning finally woke me up with a smile. 

 

I placed my clay pot on the wooden steps, taking out several pieces of papers listing ''Exorcism''. Nailing them onto the walls of the house, I prayed silently, hoping the demons and spirits would stay away from my cemetery. I was unsure of what happened to my mother, whether she was burned, buried, or left to wither in this very abode. I am currently 16, living on the streets for a year, living in the monk's monastery for 2 years, travelling through Japan and neighboring countries in search of my father and brother for 3 years, and mass-killing for the dynasties for 2 years. I became an infamous warrior, those who cursed and fear. I fell into the trap of being manipulated and used as someone from the militia told me of a way to find my lost family members. Little did I know, it was all a lie. A lingering fear caused me to believe my brother was dead or he had forgotten his older sister. Either my father had created a new, wealthier family and dragged my brother to fit his equation. Or thrown him away like the rest of his previous family. When my presence disturbed the once peaceful village who swore against me ever since I was a child, they all escaped. They feared I might slaughtered them brutally, regardless whether they were friend or foe. Now, this village and my cliff-side cabin are my world. 

 

 I had finished decorating my mother's ''shrine'', in hopes I might be able to grieve longer. To remember her embrace, only to be erased with foggy memories and loss of feeling. My lips wouldn't move an inch, and small flickers of happiness existed in my heart. My eyes used to be a beautiful dark blue, the color of the East Sea, as my mother have told me. Now, they're grayer in color, losing color every day, every month, every year I waited for our destined re-connection. My mind was too stubborn to move on with life. 

 

Suddenly, a bullet had shunned the forest, nicking off the column where the house stood. I watched one of the columns splintering, causing the roof to loose balance. The roof caved in, bring with it the other three columns attempting to hold up the structure. The whole house collapsed from that single metallic bullet. My eyes became bloodshot, and I reached for my sword, drawing it out. The iron built of the sword was smeared with dry blood, reflecting the person I am today. My ears tracked the noise coming from a short distance, and I ran towards the mossy forest. 

 

* * *

End of Chapter 1 (Episode 1)


	2. Forest Invader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okami meets a mysterious warrior outside the forest. During her handicapped state, she finds herself in an unfamiliar house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Author's Note: The point of view has been changed to 3rd Person Limited.)

Okami trekked through the forest, avoiding the brambles and roots of surrounding bushes and cypress trees. The weather was overcast, and drizzles of rain came pummeling over. The mist alongside the pouring rain obscured her vision, only to make the search for the mysterious outsider harder. But she paid no attention to the weather, so she resume following the overgrown trail ahead of her. Despite the pitter-patter, she heard something shuffle in the canopy.  She shot up, drawing out her sword slowly. In a split-second, a stranger took offense, hoping to use her waiting as an opportunity to strike her weak spots. Okami blocked their sudden attack as she brandish her sword as fast as they attacked her front side. A sheer sound of clashing steel filled the silence. The rival attempted to make a curve cut at her chest and legs, only to fail by defense. However, the tip of their sword had cut parts of her arms as it drew back to its master. Friction caused sparklers of fire to ignite as the two swords converged. 

The enemy kept pushing her back as they swiped their sword repeatedly, only to jab in her side when she placed her guard down for a second. Okami sucked in a breath from the singing pain, and attempted to retreat back into the shade of the forest. The figure was too fast to see their face, but they seem to be wearing black clothing covering their whole body. She gasped, feeling the pain in her side making it hard to walk. Gallons of scarlet blood leaked, staining her clothing and textile leggings. She dropped down, exhaustion from the repeated blood loss. 

 

Her vision had begun to fade, feeling the pain making its way to her wobbling legs. 

**Transition: Fade to black then scene**

**1st Person POV:**

I woke up from my deep slumber. The sun's rays shone through an open window, blinding me with its radiance. As I slowly pulled myself up, I felt an aching cramp at my side. 

 _''What is this?''_ I wondered, using my recently-bandaged hand to feel a plastered cast placed around my stomach region. The futon itself was already stained with droplets of blood, suggesting she was previously bleeding. I suddenly became defensive and aware of the unfamiliar bedroom I was in, so I dodged to a nearby corner and securing my view with one of the futon's blankets. _''Where am I?''_

I couldn't help but feel uneasy in the situation I was in. However, due to the short ruckus I made in the host's bedroom, the oak door opened ever so slightly. A person walked in, whose disguise covered every inch of their body. All of a sudden, I instantly remembered the scene that played out not too long ago. The man wore tightly-wrapped ninja clothing, the black fabric blending into the shadows of the tree branches and foliage. The man brought in a tray with a glass of water, and set it down on a nearby study desk filled with multi-colored books and feather quills. He observed the room, wondering where its guest went. Then he went to be window, possibly wondering if I escaped through there. Still, he closed the window and pulled in the curtains before looking outside. 


End file.
